


Traditions

by idiosyncratic_starcluster



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas Fluff, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, Michael Possessing Adam Milligan, Mistletoe, i love them your honour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:07:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28035162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idiosyncratic_starcluster/pseuds/idiosyncratic_starcluster
Summary: With Christmas coming soon, Adam manages to find a little job. Nothing much, it's mainly moving stuff around on shelves and overall helping because malls and shops are filled with decorations and people are constantly rushing in and out.
Relationships: Michael & Adam Milligan, Michael/Adam Milligan
Comments: 14
Kudos: 50





	Traditions

They start gradually, but they do; _together_.  
  
With Christmas coming soon, Adam manages to find a little job. Nothing much, it's mainly moving stuff around on shelves and overall helping because malls and shops are filled with decorations and people are constantly rushing in and out.  
  
Everyone tends to become more unreasonable and irritable as days go by; Michael would — _does_ — say they're irritating and _he's right_. But it's a busy time of the year and they need the money (kind of) so Adam makes sure to spare paying customers Michael's temper and his clipping, stoic mannerisms. He's a bit more patient, although it can get pretty fucking overwhelming. This is why he and Michael trade control of their body whenever necessary and it's not a long-term deal.  
  
Anyway, Adam has always liked Christmas as a kid, it was the only time of the year his mother had some days off that they would spend together. Now, on the other hand, it's... different, it's weird, and it's fun. No, really, _it is!_ Because Michael looks at everyone and everywhere curious and horrified at the same time.  
  
He always knew humans had their own traditions and as aloof as he may be he is intrigued by _how they even came up_ with many of them. But he also doesn't get it: the rush, the neurotic behaviors, just to name a few. How do humans manage it while _still_ extolling harmony and peace and kindness? In between a scowl and an attempt at his endurance, more so.  
  
Adam can feel a good amount of Michael's stream of consciousness even while he works and the archangel stays in the back of their mind or nearby. He's always frowning and Adam, for his part, is always snorting and putting on reindeer horns and any weird hat he can find just for the hell of it. To which Michael stares at him unimpressed, deadpanned, while he cackles.  
  
He thinks he must look ridiculous — he certainly feels like it — but it's Adam: his soul beams with mirth and he looks a bit lighter, so Michael huffs and lets him, fondness and love reverberating through their bond.  
  
Still, Adam is his guide, he does his best despite the ten-year-gap between him and the rest of the world, so Michael asks him questions. He doesn't want to get involved in the celebrations, but he asks about the most varied things: it goes from trivial stuff to deeper matters and one day, it had to happen sooner or later, he gets mistletoe in his apparition's hair.  
  
There's a flicker. Adam turns around to ask what's up, and when he sees Michael amusement flashes through his features. "It kinda looks like an olive wreath on you," he says, reaching out to settle the thing into place and out of the archangel's hair.  
  
Michael shakes his head and states that "It doesn't look like an olive wreath at all, I would know."  
  
_Huh, irony suits him_ , Adam decides with a hum. "Sure you would, old man. There you go."  
  
Michael nods as if to say thank you, his grace gently nuzzling Adam's soul as he does. It's not like his help was really necessary, and if they weren't so close already — had this happened a year ago — Adam would have blushed. He still does, just a little bit, but well, _sue him_ , he's been working all day long and the jumper he's wearing is thick and the bundle of grace and soul in his chest is warm. Michael, too. His apparition radiates soft warmth.  
  
"Right. So—"  
  
"What is this?"  
  
Adam stops on his tracks.  
  
"What is what?" Michael's eyes shift to the mistletoe that is now hanging in the little space between their heads. Adam frowns. "You don't know what mistletoe is?"  
  
"I know what mistletoe is," _Obviously._ "But why would you hang it indoors?"  
  
Michael senses a flash of mixed feelings coming from Adam, matching his expression, the way he briefly clears his throat and chuckles. At the archangel's raised brow, he answers. "It's another human thing. If two people stand under the mistletoe, they have to kiss."  
  
Michael sizes him with a look, Adam can feel it even as he turns around to pick up the Santa hats he was putting on the shelves before.  
  
"So it's tradition."  
  
"Yup."  
  
"Hmm." Michael looks idly at the mistletoe again, and sure enough, he does know what it is: even if he never spent much time on Earth, he has some recollection from many many years ago. But now is now and it's different — a different time, a different life. So he waits for Adam to straighten up, then he says, "You missed a spot."  
  
"Where?"  
  
Adam looks at the top shelf without finding any vacancies left between the Santa hats, but before he could ask Michael about it, he feels the archangel's fingertips on his chin. They make him turn around gently, and his eyes catch green and red, right above his head. Confusion shifts into realization and a dash of surprise and embarrassment, and Adam has barely time to look at Michael and think: _'You smooth motherfucker,'_ before the latter kisses him on the lips.  
  
It's confident yet tender, incredibly warm; a buzz of something passes through — serotonin and feelings and not-even-God knows what else — and it doesn't last more than a couple of seconds, but there is a _yearning_ behind the gesture that makes it feel longer.  
  
They get lost in each other a little bit, just for a moment, for something so simple and innocent. Then Michael wills himself to pull away. He doesn't step back much though: his hand is cupping Adam's cheek and Adam's — who has all but dropped everything else because of him — is still grasping his waist. They're still close enough to count how many eyelashes the other has.  
  
As Adam speaks, he can feel his lips barely brush Michael's. "Couldn't you have moved it instead of making it bigger?"  
  
"It's a slight change, no one will have enough presence of mind to notice. And," For how holy and clean Adam feels after being kissed by Michael, the way he moves his mouth has some sort of wickedness to it. "It's an old tradition."  
  
Again. _Smooth. Motherfucker._  
  
Adam rolls his eyes, scoffing with nothing short of bubbly contentment and love inside of him. "You're so—"  
  
"Adam? You alright back there?"  
  
" _Shit_. Yeah, yeah! I'm fine."  
  
Meanwhile, _Rockin’ Around The Christmas Tree_ keeps playing in the background.

**Author's Note:**

> so today's one year since 15x08 aired, and i'm pretty emotional. ;w;  
> i don't know why i wrote this or how i did it, it's the first time i post something in this tag and english's not my first language so i apologize if there is any mistake. but given that this little thing wrote itself in the span of an hour, HERE IT IS. to all of you midam / adam / michael stans, happy anniversary!! <3


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